


“What’s your number?” “911, Call me~.”

by Ambiguous_Ghosst



Category: GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), dream - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I revive once every two months to gift you guys with bad writing, M/M, No proofread I die like a man, This is fluff practice, and you guys enjoy it, please don’t come at me Dream or George
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambiguous_Ghosst/pseuds/Ambiguous_Ghosst
Summary: Title has absolutely nothing to do with this. This is just me writing for practice. I’m only on mobile.!!If either Dream or George says they are uncomfortable with shipping I will take this down! Remember, don’t ship people, ship characters/internet personas and DONT bother them about it!!Mindless fluff to help me get a better grasp on writing.
Relationships: dreamnotfound - Relationship, gream - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

“Dream, why is there tea in your fridge?”  
It’s only been a day since George flew into Florida. A day and the entirety of the kitchen was turned upside down because George was hungry.  
“Just sweet tea, You’ve never heard of it?” Dream was sprawled on the couch, a stupid paper plate covering half his face. He didn’t take it off for the ride home, either. George was protesting the entire time. (‘You’re gonna get us killed! Take it off!’ To which Dream had only replied with a signature wheezing laugh and a ‘no.’)  
“I‘ve heard of it, I just thought it was a joke or- like, a meme.” George pushed it to the side with a noise of disgust. “Didn’t think you were serious.”  
“Us Americans are always serious.” Dream replies, stretching. “Plus, shouldn’t you be, I donno, catching up on sleep?” The dirty-blonde points accusingly at George, who had managed to get his hands on a bag of chips. (Why was it in the fridge? He doesn’t know, and doesn’t bother enough to ask.)   
George shrugs in response, dropping on the couch next to Dream. “Don’t see the point, I don’t have that long here, right?”  
“You can’t enjoy it if you’re cranky and tired.”  
“I //can// and I //will//.”  
A silence is shared between the two, save for the random crunching of chips.  
“How long are you gonna keep that on?”  
Dream reaches up to run his thumb over the bottom of the makeshift mask. “I don’t know thought it would be funny but it’s just... the meme is dead. You had your freak out in the car, even though I can see //fine//—“ George rolls his eyes   
“—But you can’t just wear a mask the whole time.”  
“I’ll take it off if you tell me you love me.”  
This again. Dream seems hellbent on getting George to say ‘I love you, Dream.’ And all its gotten Dream is an audio clip from after he left a stream. All George got, of course, was confused.  
“Fine, I love you, Dream.”  
Dream stays silent, and George can feel the eyes studying him.   
“Would you-“  
George was cut off by Dream reaching up and hooking a finger under the mask, pulling it off and smiling dorkily at George. “Tada!”

_____  
It’s super late lol, I need sleep cuz I have to go into school and yell tomorrow, but I needed to write before I went insane. Sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! If there are any, please tell me so I can fix them ASAP. Thanks!


	2. A way with words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He has such... a way with words... poetic, even.”
> 
> Low key this might just be a poem I ghost wrote—
> 
> Meant to be a poem from Dream to George or something but whOOPS suddenly it’s me venting all of my romantic feelings about the 4 people I like (help) and I can’t stop and oh no I posted it—

Deleted because ew cringe


	3. “GiRlS dAy~”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream convinces George to have an in-home spa day. It goes horribly, horribly right.

“Oh, come on, George. It’ll be... a girls da—“ Dream cuts himself off with a wheeze, leaning forwards a little as the mass of blankets glares at him from the couch.   
“Mh.” Came muffled from the lump, before the blankets moved and a George’s tired face was revealed. “No.”  
“Why not? Would you rather go to the beach?”   
George groaned in frustration. It’s not like he hated the beach, he hated the sand everywhere, and the monumental amounts of people (seriously? And none of them are wearing masks??) and he especially hates the heat and the sun.   
A silence encases the house before;  
“... How many people can your bathtub fit?”  
“Don’t know, do you have swim trunks?”  
The blankets were flung off as George stands on tired legs. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”  
————————  
Turns out, they would both find, the bath could barely fit both of them, leaving only a little legroom. The water was nearly uncomfortably warm against George’s skin. There was some kind of salt mixed into the water (He’s pretty sure it’s table salt.) Dream has busied himself with the mundane and frankly terrifying task of lighting candles. However, it wasn’t the candles, or the water, or even the table salt suspiciously resting on the sink, it was Dream’s socked feet, submerged under the water.   
“Are... Are you wearing socks... for a bath?”  
Dream turns from the candle, glancing down to his feet and wiggling his toes through the socks.   
“So it’s not gay.”  
“S- g... what?” George would love to recoil from the hellish demon grinning at him but the wall stops him and the water nearly sloshes out of the tub. “S-socks.... in the tub? Dream— Clay— what the absolute fuck??”  
Dream snorts, shaking his head and setting the last lit candle to the side. “It’s not gay if you’re wearing socks.”  
“It was.... never gay?” George shakes his head, crossing his arms.   
“Not yet,”  
That sounded dangerously like a promise, provoking George to sputter, face and neck turning red with embarrassment.   
Dream watched on in amusement as George fell apart, half-clawing out of the tub with something along the lines of “Enjoy your bath—“ as he vacated the bathroom as fast as he could.   
Dream watched as George ran out, probably back to the couch, and sunk further into the water with a contented sigh. The bath was cramped with two.


End file.
